In The Mezzanine, our intrepid explorer Howie engages in a cerebral safari; though his body is slowly trundled towards the eponymous intermediate floor, his mind blazes from place to place, seeing the sights of the Sahara of his brain. Ideas are the captivator of Howie's attention. Some ideas are like the gazelles, gathering in herds to go about their business, a cluster of related thoughts roving about as one. Though one is ultimately the idea most pertinent to the story, it has hangers-on, footnotes to add to its presence. Others, like lions in the wilds of Howie's brain, winnow down the herd; as a whole, the gazelles leave stronger, but sacrifices are made along the way. His constant refinement of "shoelace theory," for one, shows us this principal. So, now knowing the subject of our adventure, it is this humble guide's intention to help you get the most for your enterprise.
In truth, there are many ways one could choose to view the safari. Some come along and take pictures constantly; the park has no rules against this, but I would advise against it. Those who take a snapshot of the moment, then stop all else to examine it, only to take another, end up missing some of the most beautiful sites here. Devotion to documenting your experiences is admirable, if not a little foolhardy. Trying to process a piece of Howie's mind apart from the rest only leads to confusion in the end. Rather, the other guides and I find that the best method of observation is to watch everything. Wander about the grounds with wide eyes, absorb everything. Then, when the opportunity presents itself to you, be ready to capture the moment. A quick reaction won't always produce the best individual pictures, but it won't spoil your experience either.
Learn from my experience. This past summer, my mother and I went to visit Portland. In our exploration, we traveled by a beautiful section of waterfalls beneath Mt. Hood. My mother, smartphone camera at her side, dragged me up the trails, maneuvered about the walkways, and positioned me just so in order to perfectly capture the falls. But this was not the greatest memory of the trip. Though it produced something we could take back, a trophy of our conquerings, our most memorable vision of the area came long after her iPhone had sputtered to a halt. When I convinced her to take a side road up the mountain, to explore a hidden trail, we discovered someplace much greater than the falls below: a promontory from which we could spy vast peaks hundreds of miles away. We did not come back with pictures of this great vista, but we came back with memories even greater.
When reading this book, as with exploring the falls, the best course of action is to absorb it all and process it afterwards. Once you can see the connections, pick out the best sites, you will best know how to understand the book. Attempting to surmount it piecewise, like exploring a mountain by pictures, will not suffice. Reading one part and crunching down on it will assuredly leave some other place neglected, and you will not have a full picture of the whole. Capturing the moment will obscure, but serving it will tease out the glory inside.
